


Baiting the Hook

by lielabell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Pickup Lines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-03
Updated: 2011-06-03
Packaged: 2017-10-20 02:16:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/207708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lielabell/pseuds/lielabell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean teaches Cas the fine art of pick-up lines, much to Cas's dismay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baiting the Hook

Dean is sitting at an honest-to-God vintage Fifties table, drinking warm beer and munching on chips when Cas shows up, all slumped shoulders and slightly musty smelling. "Well, look at what the cat's dragged in," Dean says, a smile tugging at his lips in response to Cas's baffled look.

"A cat did not drag me."

"Good to see you too," Dean kicks the chair across from him out from under the table. "Pull up a chair and have a cold one." He glances down at the beer in his hand. "Well, a slightly warm one anyway."

Cas doesn't move. "I'm not interested in beer, warm, cold or otherwise."

"And that right there is the number one reason why angels are such dicks." Dean pops another handful of chips into his mouth. "So what's up?"

Cas glances at the ceiling and then back at Dean. "Again, not important."

Dean takes another drink and then smiles, even though he really wants to snap at Cas to get to the point. "Oh?"

Cas lets out a frustrated noise, his brow furrowing. "I have--" he shakes his head. "I am not good with interacting with humans. I am aware of this."

Dean snorts. "The man on the moon is aware of this."

Cas gives him his best death glare. "I approached your brother about my deficiencies, and he suggested it would be better if I talked to you directly."

"You wanted Sammy to help you with your people skills?" Dean can't help but feel hurt, even though he knows that Sam on his worst day is ten times better at making people like him than Dean is on his best. "And he turned you down?" Dean shakes his head and whistles. "Damn."

Cas is not amused. "I have reason to express my interest in someone. I," he glances at the floor, "require assistance on the best manner in which to do so."

"Come again?" Dean asks, his eyebrows shooting up.

"I want to make my interest in a particular person clear," Cas says like his teeth are being pulled. "And Sam was of the opinion that I should come directly to you to do so."

Dean lets out a startled laugh. "Well it's about damn time!" He pushes back his chair and moves to slap Cas on the shoulder. "Finally realized you had a pair, did you?" he asks with a wink. "And who is the lucky lady?"

Cas shifts uncomfortably under his hand. "There is no lady that I had in mind."

"Ah," Dean winks again. "Not ready to tie yourself down. Want to play the field a little. I got you, Cas."

"You've got me how?"

Dean clears his throat and moves back towards his chair. "Figure of speech. Means I understand you."

"No, I don't think that you do."

"Oh, yeah, I do," Dean gives Cas his best leer. "And, believe me, you've come to the right place. No one can reel 'em in like I can."

"’Reel 'em in?’"

Dean smirks. "Oh, you know it." He takes a sip of his beer then nods. "What you need is a good pick-up line."

Cas pulls a face that makes him look like he needs to use the bathroom. "A what?"

"Pick-up line. Or just plain line. It's something you feed to chicks, to break the ice, get them interested." Dean leans back in his chair. "Trust me, Cas, once you have a few good lines under your belt no one will be able to resist you."

"No one?" Cas looks thoughtful. “Fine. I will give your lines a try."

Dean slaps his hand on the table. "That's my boy," he says with a grin. "Okay, let's break you in easy." He closes his eyes and tries to think of the perfect line for a guy like Cas. Something slightly intelligent, but not smarmy. "How about this: ‘If you were words on a page, they'd call you fine print.’"

Cas looks at Dean like he's lost his mind.

"I'll take that as a no. Huh. Okay, we'll try something else. What do you think of this? ‘You make me want to get a library card so I can check you out.’" He gives Cas finger guns.

"That makes no sense."

Dean frowns. "Dude. Use it on hot girls with glasses. It works like a charm."

"I'm not interested in girls with glasses."

"You should be. They are into some kinky shit." Dean gives him a smug look, which Cas ignores. Dean rolls his eyes. "Fine. I'll tone it down a bit. Baby steps." He purses his lips. "Ah! ‘If I was in charge of the alphabet, I would put U and I together.’" Dean gives him a big grin. "Chicks did that one."

"Dean, I don't think that -- " Cas starts, but Dean cuts him off.

"Just say it."

Cas glances down at his feet, then up at the ceiling again.

"Anytime now, big fella," Dean says around a mouthful of chips.

Cas takes a half step in Dean's direction. His eyes lock onto Dean's and he sort of smolders a little. “Points for the steamy look,” Dean encourages.

Unfortunately, his words make Cas go all distant and remote. "If I were in charge of the alphabet," he says with complete lack of inflection, "I would put U and I together."

"No, no, no," Dean says with a shake of his head. "That's _not_ the way you do it."

Cas frowns. "I don't understand. I said exactly what you told me to say."

"Yeah, and you sounded like a goddamn Speak and Spell." Dean says with a disappointed sigh. "It's all about how you say it, Cas. You got to smile, give her a wink or something. Not just stand there with your hands at your side and that half-constipated look on your face."

That frown? It just gets frownier. "I," Cas stares off into space for a long moment and Dean half wonders if he is phoning home.

"You alright over there?" Dean finally asks when the silence has stretched too thin.

Cas moves to the chair that Dean offered earlier and sinks into it, doing dejected pretty damn amazing for an angel. "Perhaps if you suggested something else. I don't believe I can say any of the ones you previously mentioned with the required conviction."

Dean rubs his temples. "Dude, those were my best lines!" Cas opens his mouth and Dean just scowls at him. "Whatever. How about this one: ‘Did it hurt?’"

"Did what hurt, Dean?"

Dean struggles to keep his face straight. "’When you fell from heaven?’"

"That is not funny." Cas's eyes go dark and his face gets stormy.

"Um, yeah," Dean says with a chuckle. "It is." He shrugs. "But it's not a very good pick-up line. Women just roll their eyes. Too creepy-old-man, if you know what I mean."

"No, I do not."

Dean sighs. "Of course you don't."

He holds up his fingers and starts ticking lines off. "‘If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?’ ‘Your father must of been a thief, because he stole the stars and put them in your eyes.’ ‘I’m not sure what you think of me, but I hope it’s dirty.’ ‘Are your pants made of Windex? Because I can see myself in them.’ ‘I’m feeling off today, you wanna turn me on?’ ‘You like shoes, I like shoes. Let's fuck.’" He waggles his eyebrows at Cas on that one. Cas, however, does not smile. Instead, he's got that vaguely confused look of his on his face again. "Come on, man, these are classics."

"Do women actually respond positively to these," a mildly disgusted pause, "‘lines?’"

Dean grins. "Mostly they respond positively to the guy saying them." He jabs himself in the chest. "I could talk about dog food to a woman and she'd get hot. It's kind of my superpower. That and kicking demon ass."

"Superpower?"

Dean shakes his head. "No getting distracted, Cas. I'm teaching you a vital life skill right now. It's up there with always using a condom and marking your nearest exit when you enter a room."

Cas studies Dean's face for what seems like forever and then glances off to the side. "I appreciate the effort," he says, his voice low and almost raw, "but I'm not certain that I will be needing this particular life skill."

Dean snorts. "Dude, if you think I'm letting you stay a two-thousand-year-old virgin, you are completely off your rocker." He takes a pull on his beer as he watches Cas try to sort that one out. The angel lets out a snort of confusion and then pins Dean with one of those do-or-die stares of his.

"I have no interest in the women who would be attracted by these so-called lines of yours Dean."

"That's because you don't know what you’re missing," Dean says dismissively. "Now shut up and listen to the words of wisdom I'm sharing with your dumb ass."

Cas shifts in his seat. "I don't think you understand what I am -- " he starts, but Dean cuts him off with an air kung-fu chop.

"You just got to trust me on this, Cas," he grits out. “So stop talking already.”

"You are right. The time for talk has passed," Cas agrees. He pushes to his feet so fast that his chair is knocked aside, startling the shit out of Dean.

"Wha?" he blurts out as Cas causally picks up the table like it weighs nothing, sets it aside and then crosses the distance between them to straddle Dean's lap.

"Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" Cas asks, his eyes boring into Dean's. He shifts a little, pressing down on what is clearly _not_ Dean's precious nickle-plated Colt.

Dean’s jaw drops. “Where did you learn that?”

Cas practically growls. “It seems Sam is as bad at giving advice as you," he mutters, his eyes still locked with Dean's. "I think it would be best if I just followed my own instincts."

"Cas?" Dean's voice is a little bit too squeaky for his own comfort.

Dean has exactly three seconds to wonder what, precisely, his baby brother told Cas. Then Cas catches hold of Dean's leather jacket and pulls him close for a skin scorching kiss. The kind that leaves you gasping for breath and weak in the knees. The kind that makes you ache for more.

Dean lets out a little moan and presses his hips up against Cas, who rocks against him in response. "You know what you’ve got?" he asks, his hands sliding down to grip Cas's ass and tug him even tighter. "You’ve got yourself a set of world-class instincts."

Cas's lips are slightly swollen and his eyes are about as wide as they can be, but he's got an eager, hungry look in them and a smile firmly in place. "I'm an angel of the Lord," he says like that explains everything. Then he he bows his head to nip at Dean's neck. Which, wow.

“And here I thought that all you angels of the Lord were good for was asshattery and the occasional smiting.”

“We are capable of much more than that,” Cas says while pressing hot, open mouthed kisses down the side of Dean's throat and doing something sinful with his hips. “Please allow me to demonstrate.”

Dean sort of chokes on his tongue at that, his eyes glazing over. “That, my friend, is the best damn pick-up line I’ve heard all night.”

Cas’s only response is to bite down on the juncture of Dean’s neck and shoulder, which sends shivers down Dean’s spine and makes him go all tingly inside. Dean wraps his hands in Cas’s hair and pulls him up for another of those mind-stopping kisses.


End file.
